Changing My Mind
by Carrie1138
Summary: Yes, it's another "bounty hunter on Ord Mantell" story, but don't let that put you off. Han and Leia make a good team. Pre-ESB, obviously.


" _The bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell …"_

 **CHANGED MY MIND**

The capital city of Mendana is a dump. And that's being polite. The buildings are run down, dirty and decrepit, the economy is depressed, and the people are just as bad. Han and Luke both know that Leia will stand out and draw attention like a party hat on a Wookiee here, but she doesn't seem to get it.

"I'm here as a representative of the Alliance -"

"And if the Alliance had any sense it would have sent someone else. You're not going to pass unnoticed out there. You look all wrong."

"In what way wrong?"

The two men look at each other, both daring the other to say it. Eventually, Luke takes the plunge. "You just … you look … like a princess. Not like someone who's ever had to struggle to survive. We can disguise you, but you still …"

Han sees she still isn't getting it, and grows impatient. "Damn it, Leia. You're too clean, too healthy, and too damn beautiful to pass for one of these deadbeats." He suddenly realises they're both staring at him. Stang. He really just said that, didn't he? The b-word.

She gathers herself quickly, but is visibly shaken. "Well … we're just going to have to come up with something, because I have to go out there. I have to meet with our contact, and I have to make the deal we need to make."

Han frowns, pretending to think about it, but is really just trying to buy some time to get over his embarrassment. How could he do that? How could he just go ahead and tell the princess of Alderaan, a leader of the Alliance, that she's just too damn beautiful? When Chewbacca gets to hear of this, he's never going to live it down.

"We could go. Me and the kid. We'll get the guy and bring him back here. That way you don't even have to go outside." But the whole time he's talking, she's shaking her head.

"It wouldn't work. Why would he trust you? He doesn't know you. No, it has to be me."

Han scowls at her. "Fine. But don't blame me when it all goes wrong."

"I won't!"

"Good!"

Luke rolls his eyes and heads for the cockpit. Leia storms off, into the sleeping quarters. Han throws up his hands and drops into a seat at the Dejarik table, still scowling.

A few minutes later, Luke and Chewbacca return from the cockpit. It turns out Luke's already passed on what he said, but while the walking carpet is laughing it up, Han isn't seeing the funny side.

"Yeah, real funny, furball," he growls. "It won't be funny when someone decides to rob us 'cause she's obviously rolling in it, will it? Or worse, shop us to the Empire 'cause they can tell we're not their usual kind of scum."

Chewie shrugs. It's not that he doesn't care, he knows these are serious issues, but he's having way too much fun enjoying Han's discomfort to let it go.

Then Leia emerges from the sleeping quarters, and they all turn to look at her. She's changed her clothes. It looks like she's found Han's oldest, most threadbare shirt and pants that he keeps for working on only the dirtiest of jobs, and then stomped all over them before putting them on. She's let her hair down, smeared some kind of grease into it and tangled it as much as possible before roughly tying it back, leaving some uneven, loose strands hanging around her face. She's also removed all her makeup. "Well?" she demands. "How about this?" She folds her arms and glares at them.

They look her over appraisingly. Han's having trouble just getting over the fact she's wearing his clothes. He didn't even wash them after wearing them the last time. He has to admit though, the look isn't bad. She still needs to be much dirtier, but just stepping outside will take care of that pretty quickly, for all of them.

"Not bad," he says. "Now all you have to do is remember to not act like a princess."

She raises her eyebrows at him. "And how exactly do princesses act?"

"Well … like that, for a start."

She rolls her eyes, but seems to take his point. "Can everyone stop staring at me now?" she asks quietly.

"What have you put in your hair?" Luke asks. He's not joking, he's genuinely wondering. Approaching her, he touches it, bending close to smell it too. "Is that engine oil?"

Han notices that she doesn't flinch when Luke touches her, not like she does with him.

"You'll have one Stang of a time washing that out," he tells her. "Just ask Chewie."

The Wookiee confirms it, and for a moment she looks worried, but then she shrugs it off. "I'll deal with that when I need to. If the worst comes to the worst, I'll cut it all off."

Han's surprised at how much the idea horrifies him. But she's looking at him again, so he quickly hides the reaction.

Luke smiles. "You wouldn't want to do that. Remember, we're based on Hoth now. You'd freeze to death in a day without your hair to keep you warm."

Leia manages a little smile in return. "Good point. I'm sure it will wash out eventually." She looks around. "Now, can we go? If we don't meet with Marten by nightfall, he'll think we're not coming. He's jittery enough about this as it is."

Luke looks at Han. "What do you think, Han? Will she do?"

He shrugs. "I guess she'll have to."

As they walk, Chewie and Luke pull ahead slightly, leaving Han walking with Leia. At first, she seems to be ignoring him, like he's not even there. But then she looks around. "I hope you didn't mind me taking your clothes," she begins, a little hesitantly. "I probably should have asked first …"

"Nah, it's fine …" He refrains from telling her how strange it felt to see her in them.

She glances around. "People are still looking at me," she murmurs.

He checks, and it's true. Even in his old, filthy clothes, with her hair an ugly mess and a scarf partially covering her face, which is now smeared with the dust she deliberately rubbed over it after they left the _Falcon_ , she's still attracting attention. Some things you just can't hide. He searches for a way of saying it, and can't find one, so settles for: "Don't worry about it. We're bound to attract a certain amount of attention, whatever we do. It's not your fault."

She nods, and seems to be thinking about saying something else. But she doesn't, and he lets it go. Chewie and Luke have reached the bar their contact wants to meet in, and are waiting for them to catch up. Luke is watching them, not just idly looking at them, deliberately watching. Han inclines his head, raising his eyebrows, and the kid looks away, busted.

The bar is crowded, dirty and smelly. But none of the patrons seem to notice, or at least they don't seem to have a problem with it. Leia minds it though - he sees her grimace, and nudges her to remind her of her role. She shoots him an angry look, then realises he's right, and modifies her expression accordingly.

"Do you see him?" Luke whispers to Leia.

She looks around, but it's difficult to make out people at the far side of the room through the smoke and murk. She shrugs. "Not yet."

"Let's make our way round," Han suggests. "If we don't find him, we can at least grab a table and get some drinks."

He sticks close to Leia, watching her back. Meanwhile, Chewie watches Han's back, and Luke watches the room. They find Marten in a booth at the far end from the bar, close to the dance floor. Recorded music is playing quietly from the speakers there. A lone Twi'lek female is staggering drunkenly around the otherwise empty space in a messy parody of dancing.

Marten stands as Leia approaches, and reaches out to shake her hand. "I almost didn't recognise you," he says. Han watches him closely, just in case he's happened to get any ideas about double crossing them and shopping them to what passes for the authorities on this godsforsaken hole. But it all seems to go smoothly, and thirty minutes later, business is concluded. The Alliance has been promised its weapons, and Marten has been shown evidence of a large sum of money ready to be deposited in an untraceable bank account as soon as they've been picked up.

"Anything I should know about these coordinates?" Han asks as Marten hands over the navigation details. "Gundarks, poisonous vegetation, Imperial blockades?"

"Nothing," Marten attempts to reassure him. "It's a cold rock with next to no atmosphere in the middle of nowhere. Bleak, but safe. And my people will be expecting you. As long as you use the right code words, you'll be fine."

He gets up to leave, telling Leia how nice it was to see her again, and wishing the Alliance well in its struggle. Leia nods and smiles, wishing him well in return, as usual giving nothing away.

Han raises his drink once he's gone. "A toast," he says.

"To what?"

"To things going smoothly for once."

Leia smiles, and they all drink. Han calls the server droid and orders another round. "No sense rushing off," he says. "It's a long time since we've been anywhere the booze was so cheap, right, Chewie?"

Chewie laughs, but Leia scowls at him. "Han," she says. "The people here are desperate, their society is completely broken, and all you can think about is how cheap the alcohol is?"

"That's not _all_ I'm thinking about," he argues. "But you've gotta look on the bright side sometimes."

She shakes her head, giving him that disappointed look he's getting way too used to. "It's hardly an advantage for these people, is it? It's just making things worse for them."

"Aah … why d'you have to always do this?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel guilty for enjoying myself while other people are suffering? It's not like I can do anything about it."

Leia rolls her eyes. "That's exactly the kind of attitude the Empire relies on," she says.

"Oh, so I'm as bad as the Empire now, huh?" He turns to Luke. "What do you think, kid? Am I as bad as the Empire?"

"Well … no …" Luke begins.

"I didn't say that!" Leia argues.

"Well, then what _did_ you say?"

"That you - we - _can_ change things. Look at what we achieved at Yavin. If we'd just stood by, thinking we can't change anything, then the Death Star would still -"

She's interrupted by a loud cheer around the nearby tables. The Twi'lek has just taken her top off. A Rodian is waving a drink at her, encouraging her to expose more. She moves closer to him, dancing with a purpose now, reaching for the fastenings of her undershirt. Han gives a sardonic smile, and turns to make some comment, but sees Leia's face and stops dead in his tracks.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," she says coldly. "Desperation."

Han shrugs. "She's already pretty drunk," he says. "She probably won't even remember in the morning."

Her eyes blaze. "And does that make it all right?" she demands.

He holds up his hands defensively. "No! Damn it, why d'you have to take everything I say the wrong way, huh?"

She sighs. "I don't know, Han."

Somehow, he still feels like he's the one in the wrong.

Chewbacca interrupts them, as he's spotted a Sabacc game going on at a table on the other side of the dance floor. A couple of players are leaving, looking dejected.

"Nice," Han comments. He looks back at Leia. "Any objection to me taking some money off these guys, your highness? I promise I'll bet small."

She shrugs. "Do what you want, I can't stop you. And you probably shouldn't call me that."

Chewie pulls him bodily out of his seat before he can retort, and drags him off to the game. From where he ends up sitting, Han can see Leia and Luke in deep conversation. It ends up distracting him, because he can't help wondering what they're talking about, and Leia almost catches him watching her at one point. He loses a couple of hands he really shouldn't have lost because of it, and then pulls himself together, turning his full attention to the game.

He starts winning. Before long, he has a decent-sized pile of money in front of him. During a break in the game, as they order more drinks and another player decides to leave, he looks over at Leia and Luke again. They're still talking. She's actually smiling, and looks more relaxed than she's been all day. Than she's been for weeks, probably. He suddenly feels very much an outsider.

A whine from Chewie draws him back to the table. The Wookiee too has been accumulating a respectable amount of cash. Suddenly, Han has an idea. When the game restarts, he starts to lose. Nothing too big, and nothing too obvious, but his luck really seems to have run out. Eventually, all he has left is what he started with. Their local opponents are looking happy, while Chewie looks confused.

Han shrugs elaborately. "Well, I guess that's it for me," he says. "I'm quitting while I still have enough to pay for a few more drinks. Thanks for the game, guys."

He stands up, and Chewie gets up with him, gathering his winnings. On the way back to their original table, the Wookiee accuses him of losing on purpose.

"Why would I do that?" Han asks. "That would be stupid."

Chewie agrees, with amusement. As they get near to the table, Han sees Luke notice them, and smile. Leia looks around, following his gaze. She doesn't smile. It's almost painful to see the tension come back into her body, as her shields go back up in response to his approach. Still, he's used to it; or he should be, by now.

He sees Luke preparing a question about the game, but he never gets to ask it. Seemingly from nowhere, someone comes out of the crowd with shocking speed and takes Han down. Next thing he knows, he's facedown on the floor, choking on dust and scuffling with what he assumes is some pissed-off Sabacc-playing local, until he hears the word Jabba and realises he's in actual trouble. He yells for Chewie, but it seems the Wookiee is busy elsewhere - probably with his assailant's cohorts. He can't get a good look at who's attacking him, all he knows is he's human. Struggling to free himself, he manages to get an elbow in the guy's guts, and is able to look up for a moment before the guy recovers and mashes his knee into Han's back, grabbing his arms and preventing him from moving further. From his new position he can see Chewie - he's been stunned and is on the floor, and a figure is standing over him, rifle trained on Han. He recognises him as Syon Karemm, a bounty hunter who works for Jabba the Hutt.

Han curses himself, knowing he should have seen him sooner. He's met this guy a few times, and if he'd had his wits about him instead of getting caught up in … thinking about _stuff_ … he would have been able to avoid him. Too late now.

"Hello, Karemm," he greets him. "Still doing the Hutt's dirty work then, I see?"

The man shrugs. "It pays. And once I get you to Tatooine, it'll pay well enough I won't have to do anyone's dirty work for a good couple of years, at least."

The guy on Han's back removes Han's blaster from its holster and finally takes his knee out of his kidneys to drag him to his feet and bind his hands behind him. Han lets it happen. The odds are not on his side right now, and he knows Luke and Leia will be watching. The bounty gang weren't here when they came in, he's pretty sure of that, so with any luck, they don't know Han is here with friends. Luke and Leia will know, just as he does, that this is not the place to take them on. All he has to do for now is wait.

It takes three of them to half-carry, half-drag Chewbacca out of the bar. That leaves only Karemm to guard Han. Good odds. They lead him off down the street, back in the direction of the spaceport. A while later, they're walking down a narrow alleyway, and he's beginning to think his so-called friends have abandoned him, when a dark figure steps out of the shadows ahead of them.

"Those are my friends," Luke the shadow says, "and I'd appreciate it if you'd let them go."

Karemm brings his rifle round, and the others drop Chewie to the ground and draw their blasters. One of them grabs hold of Han, using him as a shield. Not such good odds now, kid. Ever heard of the element of surprise?

"Back off, boy," Karemm says. "You're way outnumbered and wasting your time. Unless you want to die."

"Not today," he says calmly. The rest of it happens quickly. Luke blasts one of the guys, and Karemm returns fire and misses by a mile, as Han manages to elbow the guy behind him in the gut and break free from his hold, making a dash for cover in a doorway. A laser blast whizzes past his head from behind, _too_ close, and another guy hits the ground. Karemm ignores the new enemy behind him, rushing towards Luke, firing all the time. The kid has his lightsaber out, and is doing that neat trick he has of blocking the laser blasts with it. Meanwhile, Chewie regains consciousness in time to grab the third man by the leg and, with a roar, swing him at the wall. His head hits with a sickening crunch, and he crumples to the ground. Eventually one of the shots from behind snags Karemm's leg, and he falls. Luke's on him quickly, Chewie rushing to help.

Han finally has a chance to look behind him. Leia is there, blaster still clutched in two hands. Her eyes are fierce, but she seems frozen to the spot. Han levers himself out of the doorway and approaches her. "It's okay, your highness," he says with half a smile. "I'm unarmed, don't shoot."

She just stares at him blankly for a moment, then blinks, slowly. As she lowers the blaster her hands tremble. "You were lucky I _didn't_ shoot you," she says, her voice as shaky as her hands. "Jumping into my line of fire like that. What were you thinking?"

"I didn't know you were back there, did I?"

"Where else was I going to be?" she snaps.

He suddenly smiles, and has an overwhelming desire to hug her. But the binders make it impossible, which is probably a good thing. She gestures for him to turn around, and frees his hands.

"Thanks," he says quietly.

She shakes her head. "Who _is_ that?"

"Bounty hunter," he says grimly. "Name of Syon Karemm. Guess Jabba's upped the bounty."

He looks round at their companions. Chewie now has Karemm well secured. The guy isn't struggling much - a blaster wound in the leg will do that to you - but he's cursing them all roundly.

Han stops to grab his blaster from the dead guy as he and Leia make their way over there, pointing it at Karemm. "I guess this is where I ask who sent you, but I already know the answer to that," he growls at the bounty hunter.

"You better kill me," Karemm growls back. "Not going to get away with this otherwise. Jabba'll have your head."

"Jabba's wanted my head for a long time," Han tells him. "He's not going to stop wanting it now."

"You should have just paid him."

"He never wanted payment. He wanted my ship."

From the corner of his eye, he sees Leia shoot him a look, and realises he'd never told her or Luke that. Well, they know now.

"You should have just given it to him."

"Over my dead body."

"That's kind of the idea."

Chewie growls, asking what they're going to do with the guy. He's ready to snap his neck. After all, if their positions were reversed, he'd do the same to them.

Han shrugs. "What do you think, Karemm? Should I let the Wookiee snap your neck?"

The man struggles, and Han suddenly smiles. "What the hell," he says. "Let him go."

Everyone looks at him in surprise. He holds his hands out. "What?" he asks. "I'm in a good mood today. Besides, we're out of here as soon as we get back to the _Falcon_ , and what passes for law enforcement in this dump will probably be here soon. Tie him up, leave him here. Let's go."

Leia tosses Luke the binders she took off Han, and it's the work of a moment to secure the man. They leave him where he is, writhing as he tries in vain to free himself.

Once they get back to the ship, Leia heads straight for the shower. She's looking much cleaner when she comes back, though Han was right about the engine oil, and her hair isn't going to look right for a while.

He smiles at her. "Thanks for the rescue, your highness," he says.

She shrugs. "You still had the navigation details," she says. "We've already paid the deposit for those weapons, and I intend to pick them up."

He barely manages to hide his shock at her coldness as he turns away. "Now who's the mercenary?" he mumbles.

She doesn't hear him. She's messing with her hair and heading for the galley. He heads for the cockpit. "We ready to haul jets, Chewie?"

The Wookiee confirms, but warns him the navicomputer is still processing Marten's program, and they won't be ready to make the jump to lightspeed for maybe half an hour longer.

He shrugs. "Don't know why he didn't just give us the final co-ordinates. I could have programmed the misdirection jumps myself, would have taken two minutes. Let's take off anyway. We can hang in orbit for a bit. Better than waiting here for the police to turn up."

He sends their request for clearance to take off to Traffic Control, and then activates the comm. "Take a seat, kids, we're out of here."

Once they're in orbit, Luke and Leia come to the cockpit. Luke wants to know why they're not jumping to lightspeed yet, so he explains, and gives Leia a meaningful look. "Doesn't the Alliance trust me enough to give me our final destination?"

She rolls her eyes. "You know they do. Whenever we've left base that's what you've been given. This is all Marten's doing."

Han glances at the navicomputer, which is slowly processing and then displaying the details of the route. "Typical paranoid small-time …" he grumbles.

But despite Han's complaints, Marten's program gets them to Ord Mantell efficiently. Eight hours later, and they're looking out the viewport at a barren grey rock of a planet, crater-scarred and sun-blasted. The thin atmosphere fortunately isn't corrosive, and the pressure is tolerable, so they'll only need breath masks, not full suits. It's cold out there, though, so they're glad to have their Hoth cold weather gear.

Leia uses the code Marten gave them to contact the gang of gunrunners that occupy this place, and they're invited to land on a makeshift pad close to a complex of large, low-rise utilitarian buildings. A man comes to meet them, introducing himself as Roan Kelma. Leia takes the lead, greeting him, introducing the others, and handing over her datapad, now loaded with Marten's authorisation to give them the weapons they ordered.

Kelma invites them inside, where it's still grey and functional, but warmer, and the air is breathable. He leads them down the corridor, chatting amiably about his business running guns, spice, banned media, counterfeit items … "Anything you want, pretty much, I can get you … for a price," he smiles.

Leia's in full diplomatic mode, nodding and smiling along with him. When Han glances at Luke, though, he sees the kid's looking a little uneasy. The reason becomes clear when Kelma leaves them alone in a lounge to go and check the merchandise is ready for them.

"I can't help feeling uncomfortable, dealing with people like this," he says. "You know, they'd sell these weapons to the highest bidder - to gangsters, criminals …"

Leia looks sympathetic. "I know," she says. "But it's a necessary evil. The Alliance has to get its weapons from somewhere, and we can't exactly go direct to the manufacturers."

Han smirks. "Very pragmatic of you, princess. I'm sure the Empire would be proud."

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Dealing with criminals is something I've gotten used to recently," she says coolly. "Gunrunners, pirates, smugglers … they all have their uses."

Chewie laughs, elbowing Han, and he also smiles. "You got me."

Leia looks back at Luke. "To the Empire, we're as criminal as they are," she says. "It bothered me too, for a while, but I've come to terms with it. There's not much else we can do."

Luke nods, thoughtful now. Han smiles to himself. Sometimes the kid is just too honourable for his own good. Leia gets it, though. She understands that sometimes you just have to do what you need to in order to survive, whether you like it or not. Before he notices, he's thinking about the things he's sometimes had to do to survive, and wondering whether she could understand, or accept, them. He sees she's not as relaxed as she'd like everyone to believe. Though she's reclining comfortably in her chair, one elbow on the table, her feet up on a packing crate, there's something about her posture, an unnatural stiffness or stillness that betrays her.

He suddenly realises he's staring at her again, and drags his eyes away, reining in his thoughts at the same time. She fascinates him, there's no question of that, but letting his mind go where it wants to with that can only lead to trouble. _You think a princess, and a guy like me … No._ No.

Kelma returns a short while later, smiling. "Everything's ready," he confirms, looking at Leia. "You want to check the merchandise before we start loading it on the transport?"

She nods. "Yes, thank you."

Han's on his feet before he knows it. "I'll go with you." Chewie gives an interrogative growl, but Han shakes his head. "You and Luke go back to the ship, get the cargo ramp ready. I'll comm you when we're on our way."

Kelma leads them to a warehouse, which is stacked high with merchandise, but surprisingly empty of people considering the claims he made earlier about the health of his business. "I cleared everyone out for you," he explains. "Figured you wouldn't want to be seen by too many people."

Leia smiles. "Thank you."

He shows them their crates, and points out the tools for opening them. "I didn't open any of them, just in case you might think we were trying to pull some kind of bait-and-switch. Check as many as you want, and comm me when you're ready to load."

As he leaves, Leia picks up the wrench, but Han immediately takes it off her. "Way too heavy for you, princess. Let me. Which one d'you want to start with?"

She gives him a look, but her pride in her self-sufficiency is overruled by her practicality, and she doesn't yell at him. "This one," she says.

They check two of the crates, verifying the weapons as genuine and high-quality, just as Marten claimed they would be. Leia's satisfied, and Han is about to comm Kelma, when a blaster bolt hits the crate in front of him. Dazzled by the flare, unable to tell where the shot came from, he dives instinctively, pulling out his blaster. "Leia!"

She's right next to him, her instincts almost as fast as his. "Where did that come from?" she whispers, looking around in confusion, and he shakes his head.

"Can't tell." If he hadn't turned at just the right - or wrong - moment, he wouldn't be alive right now. The shooter must be up on one of the ramps that span the warehouse's walls, he realises, and he looks up there, nodding to Leia to be careful.

"We must be out of his sight," she whispers, "or he'd have tried again."

"He'll have seen where we went. Question is, is he after you, or me?"

"You can't hide, Solo." The filtered voice comes from above them somewhere.

Leia looks at him, and he frowns, trying to remember where he's heard that voice before. "Do I know you?" he yells.

"A little. The name's Boba Fett."

Han winces. That's all he needs. "Jabba must really be desperate to send you after me, Fett," he calls.

"Jabba's had enough of the games," the disembodied voice comes back. "He'll take you dead or alive now, after what you did on Mendana."

"Great," Han mutters. "This is what I get for being nice."

"You should have killed Karemm when you had the chance, Solo. Or at least taken his comlink off him. He managed to call me, and I caught up with you in orbit. And whoever programmed your jumps was no expert. You were really easy to follow."

"See?" he whispers to Leia. "Told you I'd be better doing it myself."

Her voice is tense. "You love to be right, don't you, Captain?"

He flashes her a smile. "You bet I do." Then before she can say anything else, he grabs her hand and runs, dragging her with him.

Blaster bolts follow them across the floor, as they dive for cover behind another stack of crates, but Han's got the measure of his enemy now. He whispers to Leia, and she nods.

Then he runs for it again, drawing Fett's fire as Leia darts out from behind the stack and shoots up at the walkway. She can't see him, but the shooting stops as he looks for her. She dives back into cover, looking for Han. He's under cover again, a few stacks away from her. He beckons to her. She takes another couple of potshots at the walkway, then runs to join Han as he covers her.

"We've got to get out of here," she whispers.

"What about the weapons?"

"Forget the weapons."

He's surprised, but she's serious. He nods, and pulls out his comlink. "Chewie. We've been double crossed, pal. Forget the loading, get her fired up, we'll be coming in hot."

He's thinking fast. Fett's alone, but he has that stupid jetpack. If they can get out of the warehouse, though, they should be able to lose him somewhere in the corridors of the base, and it's a short run from the base exit to the _Falcon_. He quickly outlines his plan to Leia.

"What about the gang?" she asks.

"They don't want to get involved," he tells her. "If they did, they could have taken us as soon as we got here. Would have been easier too."

He hears the jetpack fire up, and grimaces. "Watch it. Fett can fly. Keep moving."

She nods. They split up, hoping to confuse him. Han runs from one stack of crates to another, firing wildly into the air, as Leia tries to take the bounty hunter down from cover. When he finds a good spot to take over from her, he yells, "Go!" and she moves, as he covers her.

Working together, they've almost made it to the door when one of Leia's shots miraculously connects with the jetpack, and Fett plummets to ground level, bouncing off a stack of crates which topples as he falls. Han stares, open-mouthed, as she runs to join him. "Lucky shot," she snaps. "Come on!"

" _Solo!_ " He guesses that means Fett wasn't crushed under the falling crates, but there's no way he's stopping to check. His armour will have protected him from serious injuries, and it won't take him long to get after them. They run together for the door. Han snaps off a shot, shorting out the controls, and they're outside the warehouse again, and back in the maze of corridors. He grabs Leia's arm for a second, directing her into a side corridor, knowing the straight and obvious route is far too dangerous.

Hearing Fett already breaking through the warehouse door behind them, he starts palming the door controls as they pass, and when one actually opens, he drags Leia inside before he has time to look what's in there.

It's a closet. Small, dark, and stuffed full of broken and obsolete equipment. There's barely enough room for both of them to stand up. Leia almost immediately loses her footing on some piece of junk on the floor, and stumbles into him. He catches her, holding her tight to steady her, knowing if she falls, if she knocks anything over, they will be heard, and found. She clutches his arm as she balances herself, then shifts her weight carefully as she seeks firmer footing. It brings her even closer to him.

He can feel her breathing, still fast from the exertion and adrenaline of escaping from Fett, not to mention the scare of almost falling over. But she's steady now, and calming down rapidly. He relaxes his hold on her, but doesn't let go. She doesn't let go either. He's thinking how ridiculous this is, to be stuck in a closet with Princess Leia Organa, and how much Chewie is going to laugh when he hears about it, when he looks down at her, just as she looks up at him. It's barely possible to see anything in the sliver of light that makes it around the door, but it's enough for their eyes to meet. Her eyes are wide, and when he catches them, it's like he's caught in the pull of a black hole. He can't look away, even if he'd wanted to. The moment stretches in time, seeming to last for ever. He can feel his heart beating, hard. It's a frightening combination of shock and pleasure and something more intense than either, something that draws him to her, something he can't resist. He's breathing faster again all of a sudden, and so is she. He can't believe this is happening, but in that moment, he knows: she feels something for him. Something more than she feels for Luke, or anyone else. And _that's_ why she's always so guarded around him. He wants to say something, to show her he knows, but it's too dangerous to speak. He's not going to forget it, though. He's never going to forget it.

Then they hear it. Footsteps, outside. It's Fett. He's trying the doors as he goes. Han sees a question form in Leia's eyes, she's wondering if he locked the door. He gives a tiny nod, holding his breath all the same.

The door doesn't open, and Fett continues down the corridor, his steps speeding up as he begins to suspect he's lost them. They're still holding each other, still looking. It's starting to feel like they'll be here forever, that they'll never be able to do anything other than gaze into each other's eyes for all eternity. Then finally, Leia blinks. And when she does, it's like she can't bear to meet his eyes again. She looks down, and away. He isn't sure if it's relief he feels, that the moment is over; or regret, that he didn't dare try to make it something more.

"Do you think we're safe?" she breathes.

Han nods. "He'll be hanging around, though," he cautions. "He'll see the _Falcon_ 's still there. Can you remember where the way out is from here?"

"Of course." Moving carefully, she steps back as far as is possible in the cramped closet, and draws her blaster.

He smiles. "I knew you would. Okay, you take point. I'll cover you."

She nods, and puts on her breath mask ready for when they get outside. Han does the same, then gestures to her to open the door. The corridor is clear, and they set off, Leia in the lead, Han following and keeping a lookout in case anyone comes up behind them.

It doesn't take long. She guides them confidently back to the corridor that leads to the exit door. Once they're in the airlock, Han uses the delay as it cycles to let Chewie know they're almost home. As the cycle ends, he signals Leia to stay alert, and they flank the door as it opens.

A blaster bolt comes through as soon as there's enough space for it, and Han rolls his eyes, returning fire through the gap. The shooter is on his side of the building, so he gestures to Leia to hang back and cover him, hoping to shield her from the line of fire. She nods, and as soon as the gap in the door is big enough, he runs for it, firing blindly in the general direction of his enemy.

He forces himself not to look back and check on Leia as he runs, searching for Fett instead. But there's no sign of him; he must be sniping from a distance. With no hope of returning fire, the only possible plan is to run fast enough to prevent Fett keeping him in his sights long enough to get off a killing shot.

"Leia!" he yells. "Just run! Can't hit him from here." She does as he says, and isn't far behind him when they reach the _Falcon_. He waits for her, waves her inside, taking a quick last look around hoping to spot some sign of Fett, but there's nothing. The ramp's already lifting as he runs up it, and the ship's already taking off as the door closes.

Leia pulls off her mask and hangs it up, not looking at him. She looks tense. Han holds his tongue, not wanting to make things worse. He's surprised she's not already yelling at him for screwing up her mission, but she says nothing. She heads for the cockpit, and he follows her. Chewie's in Han's seat, with Luke in the copilot's. Luke looks round at them, concern on his face.

"What happened?" he demands.

"Another bounty hunter," Leia grimaces. "Kelma must have let him in, but didn't get involved. We wouldn't have gotten away otherwise."

Luke looks at Han, and Han sees he's blaming him for everything. He shrugs helplessly, knowing there's no point arguing when the kid's right. It _is_ all his fault. He just doesn't get why Leia hasn't said so yet.

Chewie gets out of his seat, grumping at Luke to shift so he can re-take his place. Luke moves, and follows Leia out of the cockpit, asking her more questions as Han takes his seat and starts quickly programming their first jump before Fett can get after them.

"We're gonna have to go fix Jabba soon, pal," he says. "This can't go on much longer."

Chewie growls a question.

"Yeah, it was that bad. Fett's after us, and I'm death marked now."

A shocked howl, and Han nods. "You see what I'm up against. I know you want to stay with the rebellion, pal, but we don't have any option. Not now."

The Wookiee concedes his point, reluctantly, then asks another question.

"No," he says irritably. "I haven't told her worship yet. I _know_ she's not going to like it, but what can I do?"

Chewie shrugs.

Once they're safely in hyperspace, he returns to the main hold, and finds Luke and Leia sitting at the Dejarik table, talking. He joins them. "Sorry about the mess, your highness," he says. "It was all my fault. I could have gotten you killed, and now we don't even have the weapons."

She shakes the apology off. "Don't worry about the weapons," she says. "We'll send someone else to pick them up. And at a reduced rate, to make up for the betrayal."

Han blinks. Not only is she not blaming him, she's seeing a way to turn the whole thing to the Alliance's advantage. "Really?" he asks.

Leia smiles. "If Marten and Kelma ever want to do business with the Alliance again, they'll know better than to argue."

"Huh. It's a good thing you're a princess," he grins. "You'd have made a damn good crime lord. Lady."

She smiles again. This must be some kind of a record.

"We made a good team today," he says, knowing he's pushing his luck, but unable to resist. "Don't you think?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "I guess so," she allows. Then she's back to business. "We're going to have to look into this bounty hunter thing," she says, _we_ meaning the Alliance. "You're going to have to stay on base for a while. We can't afford any other missions getting messed up like this one."

He nods. He should tell her, he knows. Tell her he has to leave, deal with Jabba in person. But something's changed in her during this mission. She seems to be thinking he's actually not a bad guy, for once, and he can't help enjoying that. The moment he says he has to leave, all that will change. But he doesn't want to see it change, not yet. So, knowing he's probably making a big mistake, he says nothing.

Several hours later, the _Falcon_ is approaching Hoth. It had been a long day, so once all the jumps were programmed, everyone wanted some sleep. But Han has been restless. Now, he realises he isn't going to get back to sleep, so he dresses and heads for the galley to get some caf, then takes it to the main hold.

He's surprised to find Leia in there. She's sitting at the table, a cup in front of her, and she's attempting, again, to detangle her hair. Hearing his footsteps, she looks up at him. Their eyes meet, and he feels an echo of the power he'd felt in that gaze back in the dark closet in Kelma's base. But things are different here, in the light, and he just nods at her, glancing away as he takes his own drink over to the console chair.

She returns to struggling with her hair. "You were right about the oil," she says ruefully, and he laughs.

"It'll break down eventually," he says. "Chewie spilled a whole container over himself once, looked like a pittin caught in the rain for weeks."

She laughs at the image. "I sympathise."

Han sips his drink. "Couldn't you sleep?"

She shrugs. "I got a few hours. It was enough. When will we reach Hoth?"

He looks at the readouts. "Not for about two hours yet," he says, and she nods. It feels strange, making ordinary small talk with the princess, without her snapping at him or arguing with him. Strange, but good.

She winces as the comb catches in a particularly bad tangle at the back of her head. He almost offers to help, then stops himself. There's no way she'd go for that. So he lets her struggle.

Then she looks up. "Would you mind … could you help me with this?" she asks, proffering the comb. He almost falls out of his chair with shock.

"Sure," he shrugs, trying to make like it's no big deal, like he helps princesses with their hair every day of the week. He brings his drink over to the table, and takes the comb from her hand, careful not to touch her fingers. She turns her back to him, and he takes a deep breath, almost scared to touch her. She tenses a little when his fingers go into her hair, then gradually relaxes again.

He works systematically, using his fingers and the comb to separate the worst of the tangles, bit by bit. Leia sits quietly, drinking her caf.

"Such a shame you had to do this," he murmurs. "You have such beautiful hair." Then he realises what he's saying, and freezes, bracing himself for the explosion. But it doesn't come. The only reaction, the only clue that she's heard him, is a tiny twitch of one of her hands. He smiles to himself. Almost without him realising it, the movements of his hands in her hair begin to change, becoming more caressing. He leans closer to her, feeling the same black hole pull he'd felt in that storage closet, certain she's feeling it too.

She doesn't react, and he's tempted, so tempted, to take it further. To move his hands to her shoulders, to lean forward and kiss her neck. But he can't do that … can he?

Ah, what the hell. He does it, sweeps her hair away from her neck, and bends down, lightly touching his lips to her skin. She tenses again, and makes a small noise, something between a gasp and a moan. Now he's really trapped. He's past the event horizon, and there's no going back. He kisses her neck again. Her hand comes up to his head, tentatively stroking his hair. He gently turns her around, and looks into her eyes. There it is again, that strange, intense combination of fear and desire. He kisses her. She kisses him back. Slowly, gently, carefully; neither of them quite believing they're really doing this.

When he draws back, they look deep into each other's eyes. He can't help smiling, but she doesn't smile back. "That," she whispers, "can never happen again."

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? Don't tell me you didn't like it."

She catches her breath. "That's not the point."

"It's not? Huh. Well, I guess we'll see, won't we?" Before she can respond, he gives her back her comb, takes his drink and heads for the cockpit, leaving her at the table alone.

He took it too far, he knows it. He should have quit while he was ahead. Now he's back where he started. _Stupid, Solo_ , he chides himself. Still, he thinks, maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it means he can leave with a clear conscience now. And … it was a damn good kiss. He smiles.


End file.
